Happiness Is
by Lock Owl
Summary: Young Eowyn can find no one to play in the snow with her! Will she miss the first snowfall of winter? *FLUFF*


Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof.  
  
*****  
  
"Eomer," Eowyn said, making her watery blue eyes wide, "please?"  
  
Eomer gazed at his younger sister out of the corner of his eye. Keeping Eowyn in suspense, he rreturned to his breakfast for a moment, spooning oatmeal calmly into his mouth. Eowyn jumped a bit from foot to foot. Gently Eomer said, "Not just now."  
  
"But Eomer!" Eowyn whined.  
  
"Ask Cousin Theodred," Eomer suggested.  
  
"He said to ask you," Eowyn replied.  
  
"Then ask our uncle, Theoden," Eomer said.  
  
"It was he that told me to find someone in the first place!" Eowyn was seven years old, and the first snowfall of winter beckoned to her. Yet in Theoden's opinion she was "too young" to be outside alone. And so, clad only in her pyjamas, cloak, and sandals, Eowyn searched high and low for a willing chaperone, but none could be found.  
  
"Uncle Theoden!" Eowyn shouted, dashing to the hall of the King of Rohan. "Uncle Theoden!" She skidded to a stop, having caught sight of the terrifying stranger that had arrived the night before. He caught her shoulders before she could crash into anything. Eowyn's body tensed up in fear.  
  
"Careful," he said in a gruff voice, and headed off. Eowyn stared after him for a moment, then ran to her uncle.  
  
"Uncle Theoden!" Eowyn cried, "no one wants to play. Can't I, oh, can't I go out on my own?"  
  
"I am sorry, child."  
  
"Well. . ." she just HAD to find a way! ". . .what about him?" she asked hopefully. Where had that come from?  
  
"I suppose that would be fine--"  
  
"Thank you!" Eowyn cried, spinning and sprinting off. When she crashed into the stranger again, not having even noticed him, she fell backwards, hard, onto the stone floor. But her excitement was too great to be postponed by a sore bottom. "Come on!" she insisted, grabbing his hand and pulling him down the hall.  
  
Strider was, in his words, "less than good" with young children. He was seventy years old and a Ranger of the North, a job which hardly required interaction with young ones, and being a bit rough with people in general, he scared off most children, if not their parents. This may be part of the reason that he was caught completely off guard by the child. He allowed himself to be pulled down the hall and outside. Any passers-by snickered to see the gruff, dark man led by the tiny blonde child, stooping so that she could hold onto his hand and still nearly his arm.  
  
But as soon as they were outside, he drew his arm away. Innocent, inquisitive eyes met his. "Don't you want to play?"  
  
"No, child. I am far too old for such things."  
  
"But surely you are not SO old!" Eowyn exclaimed. "Cousin Theodred still plays in the snow, and he's really old!" Strider smiled at her, but would not play. Eowyn could have her own fun, but she decided that her companion should have fun, too.  
  
"Will you help me build a snowman?" Eowyn asked. "I am not quite tall enough to fit the head on." Strider, who had been sitting on the cold stone steps not far off, took the snowman's head from the girl and placed it onto the snowman, then sat down again. Eowyn pouted at her snowman. That was supposed to interesting him in the snow! Angrily she kicked at the snowman until it toppled over.  
  
As Eowyn had had to use quite a lot of snow to make a being taller than herself, she was literally buried beneath the drift. She flailed, lashing out with her arms and legs. Her kicks ceased when she felt someone grab her wrist and pull her out of the snow. "Perhaps you should go inside. . .?"  
  
"No, I'm fine," Eowyn replied. The gruff man nodded and headed back to the stone steps. Eowyn was sorely disappointed, but she would not give up. The day wore on, sun drifting across the sky. The snow glistened and some melted, but not enough that Eowyn needed to stop playing. At one time she had gone inside to find a baking tin, and used that to slide down a large hill.  
  
Eomer came out in the late afternoon. Eowyn at once tackled him to the ground. He picked up a handful of snow and ground it into her hair. She responded by pelting him with snowballs as quickly as possible. A few went astray, but Eowyn was not really paying attention to that, until. . .  
  
"Who threw that?" Eowyn asked. "I'll get you, Eomer!" She rubbed the snow from her face.  
  
"I didn't!" Eomer protested. Glancing around, Eowyn saw no-one. No-one except. . .  
  
"I knew you weren't too old!" she screamed, jumping at Strider and hugging him enthusiastically. "You must have just forgotten. Come on, I will teach you how to make a proper snowman, and. . ." For a second time that day Strider felt himself pulled into the snow, all because Eomer had lied about throwing a snowball.  
  
*****  
  
I was thinking about doing a whole series of stories for different people, and their "first snowfall" nostalgia. Anyone like the idea? 


End file.
